


A Glimmer of Hope

by worrywart1966



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29661387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worrywart1966/pseuds/worrywart1966
Summary: Severus never liked making visits to the homes of children soon to enter Hogwarts. However, Minerva is sick and can't make the visit to the last student on her list, Hermione Granger. Little does he know that this particular visit will change his future and offer him the first glimpse of true hope he's ever known.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	A Glimmer of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This was my second entry for the 2021 run of Snapecase on LiveJournal. Head that way to read some amazing stories and see magnificant artwork--mywitch features!--about Severus at various times of his life. Many thanks to Velveteen Bunny for the Brit Picking and to dragonmomof2 for the beta. I messed it up afterwards. mwuahahahahaha.

"Minerva, why can't you go? You know I detest visiting the homes of students."

Minerva coughed as she struggled to sit up in her bed. "Severus," she said hoarsely, "I am unable to go. Poppy would have my guts for garters if I left my bed right now." She leant to the side and lifted a stack of files from her bedside table. "She's the last one, Severus," she said, flipping through the files, finding the one she wanted and handing it to Severus. 

He glanced quickly at the front of the cover where the students' name and date of birth were always printed. "She won't even be able to attend until next year, why must we visit her now? It can wait until next summer," muttered Severus

"She'll get her owl regardless of the start of the year. You must be ready to visit her on September the nineteenth." Minerva adjusted her counterpane and coughed. "Honestly, I don't know why we can't admit the students who turn eleven by the end of the year instead of first September; Ilvermorny does." 

Severus groaned as he took the file. "I suppose at this point it is pointless to say no. Septima would be a better choice," he finished as he snapped the file open.

"And I would have sent Septima if she were not on sabbatical in Canada."

"Vector?" 

Minerva shook her head. "Too busy covering my classes while I am ill." She returned the remaining files to her side table. "Severus," she sighed, "you know full well you are the only other member of staff with the knowledge to do this; with exception of Septima and Vector, none of the remaining staff have visited homes before!"

"Dumbledore?" Severus suggested hopefully.

"Merlin no!" Minerva gasped. "He did that once, and it took all the skill of the Obliviators from the Aurors and the DOM to straighten things out at that hospital. Why he went along with those men I've no idea, but he said it was all an adventure and was delighted. Young Mr. Eichenfeld could hardly control himself any time he saw the headmaster for years afterward," she finished with a coughy giggle. "No, Severus; I'm afraid you must do it. The nineteenth is just a few days away. In a way, she will be lucky to have nearly a year to adjust."

"Blast!" Severus growled. 

"Take the file and familiarise yourself with Miss Granger's particulars. I'm sure the family will fill you in on the rest when you arrive on the evening of the nineteenth. Now, I'm tired and would like to have a rest." She made a shooing motion with her hand, indicating Severus should leave.

With a snap of his robes, he turned and left the room, taking care to slam the door on his way. He fumed the entire length of the corridor, the entire width of the Entrance Hall, on each and every step of the stairs to the dungeon, and finally into his office. He threw the folder onto his desk where it slid across its surface and fell to the floor, the parchment within fluttering gently in the wake of the heavier folder. 

Severus made his way to a small cupboard located by a bulging bookcase. He pulled a key from his pocket, inserted it into the lock and opened the door. From within the darkened cubby, he pulled out a bottle of whisky and without bothering with the niceties of a tumbler, he pulled the cork and drank deeply from the bottle. In years past, the burn of the liquid travelling down his throat would have caused him to cough. Now however, he was accustomed to the liquid…too accustomed if truth be told, but that was a thought for another day. 

He turned from the cupboard and walked to his desk, Accio'ing the file and then dropping into his chair. He took another long drink and then flipped open the cover, sorting the parchments back into order. The first sheet held the usual details:

_Name: Hermione Jean Granger_

_Date of Birth: 19 September 1979_

_Status: Muggleborn_

_Address: 45 Morningrise Way, Stoken on Molly, Chelsea, CR62 8KD_

_Father: David Anthony Granger, Muggle_

_Occupation: Dentist_

_Mother: Helen Jean Granger neé Nixon, Muggle_

_Occupation: Dentist_

_Education: Attended English Primary school ages four through nine; excelled in mathematics, science, geography, history, grammar, reading._

_Currently completing school requirements via home instruction and tutors._

_Completed all standard state testing to date with highest honours._

Severus snorted and took a drink from the bottle. _'A know-it-all'_ , he thought. He picked up the file again. A know-it-all may not be so bad; better than the dunderheads he normally taught at any rate. 

He took note of the section marked 'Magical Accidents'. These were always telling about the power of the witch or wizard. For the most part, these were mundane enough for Severus to overlook…flying pots and pans due to a temper tantrum, Accio'ing a desperately wanted toy—his own first burst of magic—changing the colour of clothes and the like. Miss Granger's bio, however, had a second section marked 'Notable Magical Accidents' and Severus' eyebrows moved up his forehead as he read. 

_Notable Magical Accidents: Set fire to parent's garden shed, age three. Caused localised tidal shift during seaside holiday, age five. Apparated to home from muggle grocery store, age seven. Caused bookcase in school library to topple, age seven. Accelerated flower growth at muggle garden centre, age eight. Turned several pupil's hair purple and all the lights in classroom to burst, age nine._

_That explains why she is currently completing school at home,_ Severus snorted. _She is a powerful witch already and will do well here provided she is sorted into the right house._ He thought she would be a fine addition to his own house but of course would more than likely go to Ravenclaw; no Muggleborn was ever sorted into Slytherin, and he was only one of a small handful of Slytherin half-bloods ever sorted into that house. 

Taking a final swallow from the bottle, he stood up, returned the bottle to its hiding spot, and then put his hand on a panel to the right of the cupboard. The panel slid to the left, allowing Severus to pass through into his private quarters. He dropped his cloak onto the sofa and began to unbutton the line of small black buttons that adorned the front of his robes. With a sigh, he decided that a nap dinner would be in order. Perhaps it would take his mind off his task in three days' time. 

More than likely, not.

When cool air greeted Severus upon his Disapparation in a small copse of trees at the bottom of Morningrise Way, he was glad he had chosen the black denim short jacket he was wearing. Making sure his Muggle attire was tidy, he left the trees and began to walk along the road, taking note of the house numbers until he arrived at number forty-five.

Forty-five was a twin to its neighbour which was a twin to its neighbour and so on along the road. Severus hated the cookie cutter subdivisions that had sprung up over the years by eager developers, but it seemed to be what people wanted to live in. He had had not much choice in housing; his home had been built by the owners of the defunct mill whose name was the only thing left of its once proud industry. Spinner's End held no good memories for him. He assumed that perhaps Miss Granger had happy memories here; it appeared to be the sort of neighbourhood happy families lived in as children could be seen playing in the gardens and shouts of adults back and forth to come in for tea could be heard. 

He knew, however, that whether it was a pureblood or Muggle home, shadows lurked behind the prettily painted doors and carefully manicured gardens.

He made his way up the walk to the neat porch where pots of geraniums stood on the steps, blooming with health. Careful not to knock the flowers, he made his way to the door. He pressed the bell and heard of shout of a young voice crying out, 'I'll get it!'

The door opened, and a tiny witch with the biggest brown eyes he'd ever seen looked up expectantly at him. She had a head full of bushy hair and a mouthful of teeth she hadn't grown into yet; he hoped her parents would see to some orthodontia for the girl. 

"May I help you?" 

He was unprepared for the sensations that slammed into him when she spoke. The feeling was so overwhelming that his prepared 'opening of the door' speech completely deserted him. He had no idea why the sense of dread he had been feeling at carrying out the home visit was gone, but he felt…pleased.

He was suddenly amused as he watched several emotions play across the young girl's face in the span of seconds: expectation, a frown, a small amount of fear and finally polite, well-taught manners and a tight smile. He also noted that she had taken a step backwards, but she probably hadn't realised she had done so. 

"I'm am Professor Severus Snape. I am here to explain the rather unusual post you received by an owl this morning."

"Are you a wizard?" Hermione asked in a whispered awe.

He leant down and whispered back, "I am." Standing erect again, he continued, "Are your parents at home, Miss Granger? I would imagine they _and you_ have some questions."

"They're in the garden. Are you a teacher at the school? Can I really do magic? Will I get a wand? What about this supply list? Where do we get that stuff? We need a cauldron like witches on the telly? I get a pointed hat? What sort of potions will we make? Is there a library? Will we…"

"Good heavens, Hermione, let the man have a chance to say why he is here!" a woman said as she approached the door, laying her hand on Hermione's shoulder and moving her to the side. She looked at Severus. "May I help you?"

Hermione answered for Severus. "It's a professor, Mum!" She lowered her voice, "He's from that school we got the letter from!"

"I'm Helen Granger; please come in," she said, stepping away from the door. "Let the man pass, Hermione, and go fetch your father. He's still in the garden." She turned toward Severus. "Won't you come into the sitting room, Mr…?"

"Professor Severus Snape, Madam, of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"The letter said we'd get a visitor. It all seems so…fantastical," Helen remarked as she guided Severus to the sitting room. "Please make yourself comfortable; I'll get us some tea."

Severus stood with his hands behind his back as he watched Mrs. Granger leave the room. His first impression was that she was intelligent and level-headed. This would make things easier. He had only had to do a handful of visits over the years, and not all of them went well; it was one of the reasons his nose now sported its distinctive bump. 

A door opened behind him, and he whirled around, hand on his wand in readiness. He quickly relaxed his grip as he watched the little witch and her father enter through a French door that led to what was obviously the garden patio.

They removed their shoes and her father spoke to Hermione. "Run along and help, Mum, love," he gently said, "While I introduce myself to your visitor."

"He's not _my_ visitor, Daddy." Severus smirked as she rolled her eyes. "He's our visitor!" 

She flounced out of the room and Severus again felt a connection…a sort of brotherly affection. He had no time to explore the feeling as Mr. Granger approached.

"David Granger, nice to meet you," he said genially, extending a hand.

"Severus Snape," Severus replied, taking the man's hand.

"You're from that school?"

"I am a professor, yes."

"And Hermione has been accepted? It seems a little unreal if I may say so. I feel as though I am in that show where they put spy cameras and played pranks on folks. Do you know the show?"

"I am familiar with some Muggle television, yes."

"Muggle?"

"Is it the term wizarding folk use for those who are not magical."

"Me?"

"You and your wife would be called Muggles in our world."

"And Hermione?"

"Perhaps we should wait for your wife and daughter. It is easier to explain to you all at once."

"Best have a seat then," David said, gesturing to Severus to take a seat.

Severus chose a wingback chair near the fireplace. This allowed him to observe the family as a whole and also played to his constant state of vigilance to never have his back to his enemy. 

He hated the stilted silence that followed and had never been much for small talk. He further hated the fact that the silence allowed him to be open from scrutiny from Miss Granger's father. He was slightly amused as he watched David's expressions as the man looked at him. Muggles were always so easily read, even without Legilimency.

Fortunately for both men, Mrs. Granger and Hermione returned in short order with a tea tray and small cakes. 

"Here we go," Mrs. Granger said politely. "Professor, how do you like your tea?"

"One sugar."

Once tea has been passed—Severus declined a pastry—the adults and Hermione settled into their chairs and sipped politely. Severus, eager to finish the visit as quickly as possible, put his cup on the table and reached into his coat pocket.

"I have something for you, Miss Granger," he said, passing a small box to Hermione. "As it is your birthday, I brought you a small token. I believe all young girls like chocolate."

Hermione smiled as she took the package from him and quickly undid the ribbon. She pulled the lid back, gasped and then laughed as a chocolate frog leapt from the box and landed on her father. She dove after it, laughing still and asking, "What is it?"

"It is a chocolate frog, a wizarding confectionary from a shop called Honeydukes located in the only all wizarding village of Britain called Hogsmeade. It is near enough to Hogwarts that'll you'll be allowed to visit, but not until your third year. Don't worry that you'll be eating a live frog; once you've managed to catch it, pop it into your mouth, and it will immediately stop moving."

Hermione managed to grab the frog and took a bite. "Oh, it's delicious!"

"In our world, chocolate has healing properties."

Helen spoke, "There is some research in, erm, _our_ world that suggests the same; well, perhaps not healing, but a therapeutic effect." She shook her head. "Chocolate frogs, all wizarding villages, Honeydukes…it's the stuff of fairy tales! Perhaps you should start from the beginning, Mr. Snape? Perhaps by explaining why Hermione is going to a school for magic?"

"Indeed, it does seem the stuff of fairy tales, as you put it," Severus began. "However, magic does exist and there are thousands of people in England and indeed many more around the world who live among you, unknowingly to you, who can perform feats of magic. Our world is heavily protected by statutes to maintain secrecy and avoid exploitation.

"But why?" asked Hermione. 

Severus waved his wand and summoned the teapot. "More tea, Mrs. Granger?" he asked as he directed the tea to pour into her cup. Once the pot had returned to its spot on the table, he asked, "If you could paint these walls, what colour would you like?"

"Rose," replied Hermione quickly.

Severus cracked a small smile as he saw the eagerness in Hermione's eyes. Again, the sense of peace and protectiveness overwhelmed him. He stood, turned to a wall and with another wave of his wand, it was a delicate shade of rose. "Don't like the colour, Mr. Granger? Perhaps something more masculine?"

David nodded dumbly, and he watched the wall become the buttery gold of tanned leather. 

Severus sat back down. "Would you prefer another colour for your slacks, Mrs. Granger?" He again wielded his wand and with a murmured spell, Helen's slacks turned to a Scottish plaid. When she gasped, he returned them to their normal colour. 

"Don't like that vase?" He pointed his wand to a vase near the sofa and turned it into a statue of an elephant. "Perhaps not." He returned it to its usual state. "I see you have a scar, Miss Granger, on your chin."

"I fell a few months ago," she replied.

He indicated that she should come closer as he pulled out his wand. With a murmured incantation, her scar disappeared. "Do you have a mirror?"

Hermione ran to the bathroom. When she ran back, she went directly to her parents. "Mum, it's gone! It's really gone! Look, Daddy!" She turned to her father.

"These were simple things, but we can heal with magic diseases the Muggle world cannot. Can you see the potential for exploitation, perhaps even control of anyone who did magic?"

The three Grangers nodded. 

"It is imperative the magical world remain secure. However, there will be time to explain all that in a moment. In my previous visits to other Muggleborns—"

"Muggleborns?" interjected Hermione.

"The term used for a magical child born to nonmagical parents," he replied. "You, Miss Granger are a Muggleborn witch. Your parents are Muggles; the term we use for those without magic. 

"In other visits I have conducted, the first question is usually 'why is my child magic, or 'no one ever has performed magic in our family'. The short answer is, yes there was. Perhaps generations ago there was a magical member of the family who was truly able to perform magic. For some reason, the ability did not carry on to the sons and daughters of that person. Or perhaps that witch or wizard married a Muggle and therefore the magical gene was moved to a new DNA line. There is one Granger in our history; it is most likely a relative of yours, far removed of course," he said, looking at David. 

"Mrs. Granger could also have inherited the gene as well. Either way, one of you passed a dormant gene to Hermione and the fates conspired to make her a witch."

"But how did you know? Do your folk comb hospitals looking for magical children?" asked David.

Severus picked up his teacup, crossed his legs and took a sip before answering. "As Hermione will learn and is free to tell you as she does so, witches and wizards can trace their origins to Merlin and beyond. The four founders of Hogwarts created a book and using ancient magick, imbued it with the ability to sense when a magical child is born. That child's name is entered into a book that resides at the school. The book is reviewed monthly for new entries. The Ministry of Magic has similar ways of knowing so that any accidental magic of a certain intensity that involves other non-magical people can be dealt with."

"Why doesn't the Ministry contact parents as soon as the child is born?" asked Helen.

"It's a bit complicated; a magical child may not display their magic right away, especially if the child is born of non magical parents or where one parent is magical and the other isn't. Some children display their magic right away, perhaps causing a toy to dance in their cot. Some will manifest magic as toddlers, and others later still. There is also a chance that the magical child could be a squib."

"I thought squib was a baby pigeon," interrupted Hermione. "You call children baby pigeons in the magical world?" 

Severus laughed outright at the confused look on Hermione's face, the feeling of warmth and affection for the little girl infusing him. If he hadn't needed to inform the Grangers about what they needed to know, he'd have cut the visit short in order to explore these feelings.

"You're thinking of squab, Miss Granger."

"Oh," she said, her face reddening. Her parents laughed as well at her reaction. 

"What is a squib then?" Hermione asked indignantly. 

Severus remembered what it felt like to be made fun of for misunderstanding a word and felt a pang of sympathy.

"A squib is a child born to parents who both have magic, but the child does not. It is a sort of birth defect in our world if you will."

"Are they physically impaired? Mentally?" asked David.

"Not at all; it's only that they have no magic. Their existence among magical Britain is as tainted by ignorance as those born with birth defects had once been, and in some cases still are, in the Muggle world." What he did not feel inclined to tell the Grangers was that to the purebloods, a squib _was_ akin to a physically or mentally impaired child. However, that was not a topic for today. 

"You will all learn more about our world soon, but the reason I am here today, is to acquaint you with what you'll need to know now, " Severus said, turning the topical back to lighter things. 

With that, he launched into the details about catching the train, shopping in Diagon Alley, and procuring a wand. He also produced, from within his jacket, several pamphlets for the family to read, detailing further information such dress codes, a summary of school rules, and the very important Statute of Secrecy. 

Mrs. Granger suddenly made a noise and looked at her watch. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Snape, but David and I must telephone my mother. She is in an old folks home, and we call her every week at this time. You know how the elderly are about routine. Would you excuse us, please?"

Severus nodded. "I shall leave then." He stood, relieved that the visit was over.

Hermione leapt up and grabbed his hand. "Oh, can't you stay a while longer? I have so many questions! Please?" She looked up into his face, and he was done for.

"Very well," Severus said, "but only a few more. The school year has started, and I have papers to mark this evening."

David and Helen went to make their phone call, and Hermione tugged Severus to sit next to her on the couch. 

"When did you first display your magic?" Hermione eagerly asked.

"My mother told me that I was one year old when I performed my first bit of accidental magic."

"Why would it be accidental magic? If you're magical, wouldn't you be doing it on purpose?"

Severus considered the question before answering, attempting to find an analogy to help her understand. "We all can walk, yes?"

Hermione nodded.

"But we had to _learn_ to walk. Even though walking is instinctual and most of us learned to do so on our own, we had to be shown how to improve the way we moved our feet, how to balance and not fall over. Like walking, magic must be learned in order to use it properly."

"Sort of like learning to ride a bicycle," Hermione began, "Daddy had to hold on to me when I first started, to help me balance, but after a few times, I was able to do it, and now I do it without even thinking about how!"

"Exactly. You will learn to weld your magic in much the same way."

"Are some wizards bad at it?"

"Bad at magic?"

"Yeah, you know…couldn't change paint on walls as you did, or make things float?"

"Yes, there are some wizards who are bad at magic," Severus chuckled.

They sat in silence a moment when Hermione asked, "Will you be my friend at Hogwarts? Only I don't have any friends at school, or at least I didn't when I attended. Now I get taught at home, so I don't see any kids at all anymore," she finished with a slight hiccoughy sob.

Severus' heart hurt. He _knew_ this feeling, he _knew_ how she felt from experience, and he _knew_ how she felt from whatever the connection was between them. However, he also knew that he must respect the boundaries of the teacher student relationship.

He cleared his throat and responded, "I will be your professor, Miss Granger. I cannot be your friend. However, what made you different to your classmates at a Muggle school, will not be the case at Hogwarts. You will make friends there; I can assure you of that."

Hermione looked at him with a tear in her eyes. "Can you promise?"

"Promises are never a good thing to make…it can be painful when they need to be broken, even if they are for a good reason. I will tell you however, that if you try, you will make friends. Maybe not at first, but as time goes by."

"Can I come and talk to you?"

"I can't imagine that you'd need to, but I will have office hours during which you can speak with me."

"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed and quite without warning, threw her small arms around him and gave him a hug.

In shock, he awkwardly patted her back, shushing her to stop crying and to stop hugging him. When she pulled away, he gave her one of his handkerchiefs to mop her tears.

They talked of a few of the classes she would be taking and before long, her parents had returned.

David had noticed Hermione had been crying. "What's all this? What has happened?"

"Your daughter confided to me her difficulty in making friends. I assured her that she would do so at Hogwarts."

Helen sat next to Hermione and hugged her. "She did have a difficult time, I agree. But now we know why and by attending a school with other children who have magic, it should be quite different, yes?"

"I said as such to Miss Granger," responded Severus who stood as he spoke. "It is time for me to go. Do you have the pamphlets I gave you? There will be instructions on how to get to Diagon Alley; you are now free to shop there as often as you'd like and purchase your school supplies. I will warn you that should you purchase your wand and use it now, you will be visited by the Ministry of Magic and be reprimanded." He turned to Hermione's parents. "It may be best to discourage that purchase until closer to next September."

Helen and David nodded in agreement. 

"I can get the books though, can't I?" asked Hermione eagerly.

"You may. In fact, I will add another book you may wish to purchase as well. It will help you learn about the school and some of the history of magic." He pulled the parchment detailing the list of supplies from its spot on the sofa table, produced a quill and ink and scribbled, _Hogwarts, A History_ , on the list of required books.

He handed the parchment to Hermione and said, "Good night, Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger." He bowed his head to each of them.

"I'll show you out," said Hermione and began to walk with him to the front door. 

Impulsively grabbing his hand, Hermione said, "Thank you so much Professor Snape! I look forward to seeing you next September. Erm, can I write to you if I have any questions in the meantime?"

"Why do I have a feeling you will have many questions?" Severus asked with a smirk on his face.

"Well, you can't learn if you don't ask!" Hermione replied as if it were the most logical answer in the world.

Severus looked at their joined hands and quickly pulled his from hers. He had hoped she hadn't felt the tingle he had. A hopeful thought, a fleeting thought was that perhaps they _could_ be friends. As quickly as that thought had come, another rushed in, more prominent and more pressing. He and Dumbledore had discussed it just a few days ago. 

Harry Potter.

Tom Riddle.

The years to come would be difficult for everyone, they had decided, and just what Severus' role in it was had yet to be planned out. But he had a feeling that the future he had envisioned just weeks ago had been changed and for once in his life, he felt…hope.

"Yes, you may write to me," he answered impulsively. "Since you are now attuned to Hogwarts by your acceptance, if you call out the name of my elf, 'Lolly', she will Apparate to wherever you are and take a letter for delivery. I will respond via owl."

"Thank you," Hermione said delightedly. "Good night!"

"Good night, Miss Granger."

Severus left the Grangers in a contemplative frame of mind. The pull he felt when he looked at the young witchling, the peace, the contentment, the hope, the…affection, yes affection he felt for her. He had heard of soul mates but dismissed it out of mind as romantic drivel left over from times when witches did not have the freedom in wizarding society they enjoyed now. Perhaps there was something there. Regardless, as he realised earlier during the visit, he felt hopeful for the first time in a long time. Regardless of what had led him to be the sort of person he was now, he felt that time and Miss Granger would change that.


End file.
